“We’ll avenge them,” Geary stated as the Alliance fleet steadied out to cross over the top of the Syndic formation again. But he’d misjudged slightly this time, maybe rattled by what was happening to Renown and Paladin, and the two groups of warships tore past each other at extreme hell-lance range, neither the Alliance nor the Syndics scoring any significant damage on the other.
“We’ll get the Syndics on the next pass,” Desjani predicted, her face grim.
“Yeah.” Geary took a deep breath, then transmitted his next orders. “All formations, turn up one one zero degrees, port zero one degrees at time five seven.” As the fleet came back around, it would invert again as the two formations wove back and forth toward each other in interlinked S curves. The Syndic commander should recognize that he couldn’t achieve a good firing pass unless he broke the pattern, but the Syndics wouldn’t break contact while they thought they had a chance to inflict damage back on the Alliance. They never had, stubbornly sticking to fights in misplaced displays of bravery and determination. In this fight, the Syndics had already been hurt a lot more than the Alliance, even after counting Renown and Paladin. By the time the Syndics decided to flee, they’d be too badly hurt for any major warship to get away.
“Sir, activity at the hypernet gate!”
Alerts pulsed on Geary’s display. His eyes went to the area of the Syndic hypernet gate even as a watch-stander began calling out the information in a breathless voice. “Syndic forces have been spotted emerging from the hypernet gate. Twenty Hunter-Killers. Update, twenty-eight Hunter-Killers. Twelve light cruisers. Update, forty-two Hunter-Killers, twenty-six light cruisers, eight heavy cruisers. Update, sixty-nine Hunter-Killers, thirty-one light cruisers, nineteen heavy cruisers.”
Geary watched the enemy symbols multiplying madly at the hypernet gate, trying not to let his dismay show.
“They’ve got a substantial number of escorts,” Desjani remarked with what Geary thought was remarkable calmness.
Which implied a lot of capital ships.
The display and the watch-stander confirmed that moments later. “Sixteen battle cruisers. Update, twenty battle cruisers. Twelve battleships. Update, twenty-three battleships.”
Geary realized he hadn’t been breathing and inhaled. At least the threat symbols had stopped growing in number. He took a long moment to read the final assessment of the new Syndic force. Twenty-three battleships, twenty battle cruisers, nineteen heavy cruisers, thirty-one light cruisers, one hundred twelve Hunter-Killers.
The odds in this star system had just gone from roughly even to very bad. In capital ships alone the Alliance fleet now had only twenty-five surviving battleships and seventeen surviving battle cruisers. The battle so far had taken out three Syndic battleships and four battle cruisers, but even after those losses, total Syndic capital ships at Lakota now added up to forty-four battleships and thirty-four battle cruisers, most of those fresh and presumably with full load-outs of expendable munitions, whereas the Alliance ships had used up most of their missiles and grapeshot already. Almost two-to-one odds, and no matter what anyone else in the Alliance fleet believed, Geary didn’t think that superior fighting spirit could make up for that kind of disparity in firepower.
TEN
“It must be the main Syndic fleet,” Desjani observed, her body tense. “Their primary strike force. The Syndics in this system couldn’t have sent for reinforcements and had them show up this quickly, so they must have been headed here for some other reason.”
“Lucky us,” Geary muttered. The hypernet gate was almost five light-hours away now, so that Syndic flotilla they were just now seeing had arrived five hours ago. But the Syndics in that new strike force had seen the Alliance fleet the moment they arrived, and had already had five hours to size up the situation and make plans. “We need to wipe out this flotilla we’re engaged with. Then we can—”
“Syndic ships are turning away,” a watch-stander called in a disappointed voice.
“Son of a bitch.” There wasn’t any doubt. Instead of curving back in for another firing pass, the Syndics they’d been fighting were continuing outward, accelerating past point one light to open the distance from the Alliance fleet even faster. Instead of closing on the Alliance fleet, the Syndics were now heading in another direction. “They’re breaking contact.”
Along with light from the hypernet gate had come orders for the Syndic ships they were engaged with. Geary was certain of it as he watched the Syndic flotilla accelerating away.
“Cowards,” Desjani ground out, then shook her head. “No. They’ve been ordered to wait until that other big force gets close enough to engage us.”
“Right.” Geary took a look at the geometry of the Alliance and the Syndic forces, then at his fleet’s fuel status. “We don’t have enough fuel cells to catch them without going to critically low levels.”
“Jump to Branwyn!” Rione suddenly cried, as if unable to understand why someone else hadn’t already said that. “Proceed onward to the jump point and jump to Branwyn! We’ve inflicted more losses on the Syndics than they have on us, so there’s no dishonor in leaving the battlefield now!”
Desjani just shook her head again.
Geary looked back at Rione. “We can’t. That Syndic force that is breaking contact with us is going to stay close enough to come charging in if we head for that jump point. We have to slow down a lot to get past the minefield they laid and to the jump point. They’ll wait until we’re nearly at a dead stop to get around those mines, and then they’ll hit us.”
“We’d be easy targets,” Desjani added in a tight voice.
“We can’t outmaneuver them?” Rione demanded.
This time Geary shook his head. “They don’t have auxiliaries with them slowing them down, and they can leave their damaged ships behind when they come at us, knowing that we can’t go after them. Even if we didn’t have the auxiliaries to worry about, we’d still have to keep our damaged ships with us.” He pointed at the display. “The Syndics we were fighting will keep us from using the jump point for Branwyn or hurt us very badly if we try to use it. Meanwhile, the big new Syndic flotilla will head for us, knowing we can’t escape through the nearest jump point without taking serious losses. When the newest force gets close enough, it and the one we were just fighting will hit us together.”
Desjani nodded, her face grim.
“And you’re just going to wait around for this?” Rione asked, incredulous.
“Not if I can help it.” He sat down, trying to think. One thing was obvious, and that was he had to settle the fleet on a new course. “All ships, steady course up two zero degrees, starboard one zero degrees time four three.”
Now what? Badly outnumbered, and things wouldn’t be getting better. Maybe, maybe if he pulled off something absolutely brilliant, he could win here. But there was no way of doing so without losing the vast majority of his own ships. Any Alliance ships surviving after that would have absolutely no chance of reaching Alliance space and would be lost as well. A victory here would be purchased only with the sacrifice of his own fleet and wouldn’t accomplish anything but stalemating the war again. The Syndics and the Alliance would be forced to hold off attacking each other for a while as they rebuilt their fleets; then they’d both go at it once more, continuing the apparently endless war. Perhaps until both the Syndicate Worlds government and the Alliance government collapsed and human-occupied space descended into heavily armed anarchy.
Even if I managed a total victory—and what are the odds of that when the enemy outnumbers us this badly?—against odds like that, my best efforts might just delay the inevitable and see the Syndics destroy this fleet while retaining enough strength themselves to finally go against the weak forces defending Alliance home space.
Desjani was chewing her lower lip, her expression determined. She’d do whatever Geary ordered, certain that whatever it was would produce a victory. Geary glanced around the bridge of Dauntless and saw variations of the same fear
on every watch-stander, along with the same courage that would allow those officers and sailors to charge into battle despite that fear. These sailors would die if Geary ordered it, no doubt of that, fighting their hardest to achieve victory despite the odds.
But he’d already seen what that kind of attitude could produce. Paladin had possessed the same willingness to fight and die, and the end result had been death. He couldn’t ask these sailors to die just because they were willing to follow his orders to do that. There had to be a reasonable hope that those deaths would accomplish something.
Okay. Options. Take out this Syndic formation before the newest one got here, then escape to Branwyn. Couldn’t work unless the commander of the Syndic force they’d been fighting was an absolute idiot, and he or she didn’t seem to be one. Besides, they’d clearly been ordered not to engage Geary unless the Alliance fleet tried to escape before the newest force got here.
Take out the newest Syndic force? Charge it and hope clever tactics could compensate for enemy superiority? That was a slim reed to cling to, especially since the Syndic force they’d already fought would charge right after them, and as he’d told Rione, could out-accelerate the Alliance fleet. He’d still end up facing both Syndic forces at once, and with them operating in two big formations like that, they’d probably be able to wipe out his auxiliaries, even if Geary managed to avoid the destruction of the rest of the fleet.
Just run like hell? Where? Aside from the fact that many of his captains would balk at fleeing from an enemy even under these circumstances, there were also the problems that he couldn’t out-accelerate the Syndic flotillas, and the jump point for T’negu would just take this fleet into a maze of mines, with the Syndic forces here coming right behind. Running toward open space might keep the Syndics from catching them but would be slow suicide as the ships all ran out of fuel cells far from any star.
There was always the jump point back to Ixion, but the Syndic force they’d left there would surely be coming out of that at any time and—Okay. There’s an option. Maybe not the sort of option that Black Jack would choose, but I’m not Black Jack.
So, a plan to run for the only possible safe way out of this star system, without making it obvious that he was running. Fortunately, for once the expected arrival of more enemy reinforcements offered him a way to do that and conceal his intentions for as long as possible from not only the enemy but also his own fleet.
“We need time, and we need to confront these Syndic forces individually,” Geary announced, suddenly aware of how silent it was on the bridge of Dauntless as everyone waited to hear him speak. “The only way to do that with the ones we were fighting is to trick them into going after us. We can do that and engage the next wave of Syndic reinforcements into this system.”
He pointed at the display. “We’re going back to—toward the jump point for Ixion. At any time we expect the Syndic force we left at Ixion to come into this star system using that jump point. If we’re close enough when they do, we can overwhelm them.” Only four battleships and four battle cruisers had been in that force. “This Syndic flotilla we’ve been fighting will have to come to the rescue of that force, which will give us a chance to bloody it again.”
“That still leaves the biggest Syndic flotilla,” Rione objected.
“Yes, it does. We’ll have to see how it reacts and hit it however we can.” Don’t lie to them. Lay the groundwork for escaping this star system. “We can’t fight all of these Syndic formations at once. We need to hit them individually.”
Captain Desjani studied the display herself for a moment, then smiled. “We’re not retreating.”
“No, Captain,” Geary replied with all of the confidence he could fake. “We’re changing the direction of our attack.”
He repeated the phrase to a hastily gathered conference of fleet commanding officers about ten minutes later as the Alliance fleet lined up on a course back to the jump point for Ixion. “We’re changing the direction of our attack.”
A long silence followed, born partly of time needed for his commanding officers to absorb the new plan and partly of the time required for light itself to carry the information between the different formations of the fleet. “We don’t know the other Syndic force is going to exit that jump point,” Captain Cresida argued. Loyal as she was to him, she wanted to fight the Syndics.
“I’m hoping it will, and I think we have good reason to believe it will.” Plausible reason, anyway. “We need to force Syndic Flotilla Bravo to voluntarily reengage with us, because we can’t run them down, given the state of our fuel cell reserves.” A number of officers turned and glared toward the commanders of the auxiliaries, as if this were somehow their fault. “If we force a fight with the Syndic flotilla coming from Ixion, we’ll have it badly outnumbered, and Syndic Flotilla Bravo will have to come to its assistance or we’ll be able to wipe it out.”
Geary forced a confident smile. “Of course, we do intend wiping out the flotilla from Ixion, then turning and hitting Syndic Flotilla Bravo as it tries to save its comrades.”
Tulev nodded, even more stolid than usual. “We must defeat these Syndic flotillas in detail, one by one, separately. If they combine or get close enough to coordinate their attacks, we’ll be in a very difficult position.”
“Now isn’t the time for timidity,” Captain Casia objected. “If we turn and chase the Syndic flotilla we’ve already fought, we can finish them off and then engage the rest.”
“They’ll run us out of fuel cells, and then we can drift until blown apart by the Syndics,” Duellos stated, anger showing. “It’s called physics. Run the data yourself. You’ve just lost a battleship from your division because an officer thought being bold was the same as being smart. Didn’t you learn anything from the loss of Paladin?”
“This fleet fights!” another officer insisted. “We don’t run!”
“Tactical repositioning is not running!” Commander Gaes insisted. “We’re in Lakota! We attacked a strong Syndic star system. How can you call that running?”
“We should rethink that attack,” Commander Yin argued abruptly.
Geary gave Yin a questioning look, surprised that she’d drawn attention again after being relatively quiet at recent conferences. But then Captain Midea had been dominating the bad officer side of discussions in the last few conferences as she spun increasingly out of control. If only he’d recognized what she was doing, the increasing lack of discretion, and found cause to relieve Midea of command before the last battle. But he couldn’t have done that if everyone else had seen it simply as Geary’s attempt to silence someone saying something he didn’t want to hear. So now he spoke firmly but calmly to Yin. “Explain that, please.”
Yin flicked her eyes around nervously. “It’s obvious that the fleet’s movements are constrained by some of the ships. Some can’t move as fast as the others, and that limits our ability to fight.” True enough, but Geary waited, not trusting the amount of tension he saw in Commander Yin. “Some of the ships are slower by design, the auxiliaries. Others are temporarily slower due to battle damage, like my own Orion.”
A lot of officers were giving Yin narrow-eyed looks now, wondering where this was going. Yin gulped but forged on, speaking quickly. “It’s obvious. Get the slower ships to a safe place so the rest of the fleet can fight unencumbered.”
“A safe place?” Duellos asked.
“Ixion. We’re going that way, anyway. Get close to the jump point, let a formation including the damaged ships and the auxiliaries jump toward Ixion, and the rest of the fleet will be able to maneuver and fight better.” Yin was breathing rapidly, staring down at her hands as they clasped and unclasped on the table before her.
It wasn’t an entirely unreasonable proposal, if anyone had trusted Commander Yin. Her behavior made it clear that even Yin was worried about how the other officers would see it. After a long and hostile period of quiet, Duellos spoke again, his voice deceptively light. “Remarkable. It sounded just as if Captain
Numos were speaking just now. The voice was Commander Yin’s, but the advice and the words seem those of Captain Numos. Odd, isn’t it?”
Yin flushed. “Captain Numos is an experienced officer and the veteran of many battles.”
“Which he survived by running from,” Captain Cresida snarled. “That’s exactly what he wanted to do at the Syndic home system, too! Every ship for itself!”
Voices erupted all around the table, some shouting at Yin, some at Cresida. Geary searched his controls and punched the command override, quieting all the noise instantly. The ability to shut everyone up at times like this was about the only thing about being fleet commander that he liked. “Everyone listen. This kind of debate isn’t doing us any good. Our enemies are the Syndics. Captain Cresida, it’s true that Captain Numos has been charged with abandoning his responsibilities in the face of the enemy, but he has not yet been convicted of that.”
Cresida looked unhappy but nodded. “I apologize for my remark about a fellow officer, sir.”
“Thank you. Now, Commander Yin, Captain Numos is supposed to have only enough human contact to meet the requirements for humane treatment. He is not supposed to be giving advice on the running of your ship or of this fleet. Are you in fact consulting with him on those matters?”
Yin’s eyes were everywhere but on Geary’s. “No. No, sir.”
If he could only contrive a way to get Commander Yin down to the interrogation room in the intelligence section on Dauntless and see how the sensors there evaluated answers like that. But then Geary was already certain Yin was lying. Duellos was right—the words and the proposed course of action sounded very much like Captain Numos. Numos would have presented the words with a superior sneer rather than obvious anxiety as Commander Yin had, but then Geary suspected that Numos had a lot more experience with lying to his own advantage.
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